The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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HYMN TO SPRING. |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
133
HYMN TO SPRING.
Thou comest once more, fairest child of the Sun!
With all that is lovely to gladden our eyes;
While the ocean that heaves, and the rivers that run,
Flash back the ethereal light of thy skies.
Flowers follow thy footsteps, and blossoms and buds
Are scattered abroad from thy redolent wing:
There is health on the mountains, and joy in the woods;—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
With all that is lovely to gladden our eyes;
While the ocean that heaves, and the rivers that run,
Flash back the ethereal light of thy skies.
Flowers follow thy footsteps, and blossoms and buds
Are scattered abroad from thy redolent wing:
There is health on the mountains, and joy in the woods;—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
Thou comest once more, from the arms of the South,
Who pursues thee afar with his glances of fire;
And the breath that exhales from thy odorous mouth,
Fans the feelings of youth into bashful desire.
To walk with the maid of our passionate love,
'Mid the sweets and the sounds which thy spirit may bring,
Is a draught from the chalice of pleasure above:—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
Who pursues thee afar with his glances of fire;
And the breath that exhales from thy odorous mouth,
Fans the feelings of youth into bashful desire.
To walk with the maid of our passionate love,
'Mid the sweets and the sounds which thy spirit may bring,
Is a draught from the chalice of pleasure above:—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
Thou comest once more, and thy voices awake
In snatches of melody everywhere,
Glad choristers call from the forest and brake,
To the lark who makes vocal the tremulous air;
The tinkle of waters is heard in the bowers,
And sighs like the tones of the zephyr-harp's string;
The bee murmurs low to the amorous flowers:—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
In snatches of melody everywhere,
Glad choristers call from the forest and brake,
To the lark who makes vocal the tremulous air;
The tinkle of waters is heard in the bowers,
And sighs like the tones of the zephyr-harp's string;
The bee murmurs low to the amorous flowers:—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
134
Sunny Summer hath charms in the freshness of morn,
In the glory and pomp of voluptuous noon;
And Autumn, who comes with his fruitage and corn,
Rejoiceth my heart with his bountiful boon:
Even Winter is welcome, the wild and the free,
Who walks o'er the earth like a conquering king;
But thy presence hath always a blessing for me:—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
In the glory and pomp of voluptuous noon;
And Autumn, who comes with his fruitage and corn,
Rejoiceth my heart with his bountiful boon:
Even Winter is welcome, the wild and the free,
Who walks o'er the earth like a conquering king;
But thy presence hath always a blessing for me:—
Hail! hail to thee! beautiful Spring!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |